Double Bind

Chapter 3

Three days later, three days that had passed with near-constant anticipation, Lauren stood outside a house several miles from campus, located in a very good neighborhood. She couldn't quite believe that she was there, but she was, and reaching out with a tremble in her arm that felt like the after-effects of too much caffeine, she rang the bell. The door opened, and a man appeared wearing tight-fitting jeans and a dark grey, designer wool pullover. "Come in, please," he said. She took a deep breath, thought for a long moment about saying that she must be at the wrong address, and walked inside. He led her to a large room with a couch and several chairs, some half-lit lamps, and a thick, expensive-looking rug in the middle. There was a coffee table pushed against the back wall, which had clearly been moved to the side for the occasion. "Take a seat," he offered as he pointed to one of the chairs. "Can I get you anything?" She sat down, shaking her head. "I think we should just get started," she said. "OK," and he sat on the couch next to her chair.

"So, you said in your email that you've been hogtied. What was that like?" "Oh, well," she paused, starting to blush, "my boyfriend tied my arms behind my back, then he tied a rope around my ankles, and he tied my hands to my feet. It was fun to wriggle around on the bed like that." She was embarrassed, but also strangely comfortable talking to this man about her bondage experiences. Certainly it was far easier than talking to her friends would have been, like he was a therapist who wouldn't judge her. "Well," the man said. "I think you deserve to be hogtied for real. What do you say?"

Her mind flashed back to the photos she'd sent him - photos of girls with their elbows pulled together painfully behind them with leather straps and their backs arched from the tension. "Sounds good," was all she managed to say, praying that her rope marks would clear by the time Scott returned from a tournament at the end of the weekend. The man walked over to a cabinet, opened it, and took out a long stretch of rope. "Take your shoes off and stand up on the rug," he commanded her. She did so, feeling a sensual haze come over her as her toes curled into the soft, thick fur. It made her feel safe somehow. "Now, take off that top of yours." She did so, barely able to believe that she was now standing in her bra only minutes after meeting a stranger online. But as he smoothed the rope through his fingers in search of its midpoint, she found herself saying, "I should take my bra off too, right?" He looked at her, as if to say you really know what you want, don't know?, but he didn't say anything as he unhooked her white Agent Provocateur bra and let it fall to the floor. Her breasts were full and high, with areolae about an inch and a half in diameter and soft pink nipples.

He spun her around, adjusting her wrists so they were parallel at the middle of her back, elbows bent ninety degrees. Wrapping the doubled rope several times around her wrists, he said, "See, it doesn't need to be that tight." He now looped the rope between her arms, cinching the tie. "Because when you wrap this way, it becomes inescapable." He took up the ends and circled them around her ribcage under her arms, pulling the loops up until they sat snugly below her breasts, then switched direction behind her back and wrapped several more times above her breasts. With the remaining rope, he brought the ends over one shoulder and down between her breasts, grabbing both sets of breast ropes and cinching them together, and then running it back up over her other shoulder to be tied at the knot forming between her shoulder-blades. After attaching another rope to her wrists, he now wrapped her torso again, this time trapping her upper arms against her sides and then cinching between biceps and body. She wriggled and found that her upper arms were completely immobile, and her wrists only had a little bit of play. As she struggled in the ropes, her uncovered breasts responded to the cold air and the slight squeeze of the ropes, and the man noticed her nipples hardening into eager pencil-erasers. He had plans for them.

"How do you feel so far?" He asked. She was breathing heavily, but slowly, enjoying the mild bite as each breath compressed her chest against all of the ropes holding her in. "Well, my boyfriend tied me like this before. But it wasn't as tight," she replied. Instead of responding, the man wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, unbuttoned her boot-cut Diesel jeans, and started pulling them down. She obliged willingly by shifting her hips back and forth, until her jeans slid off and bunched at her ankles. She stepped up with one foot at a time and he pulled them free, admiring the perfect skin of her smooth bubble ass, well displayed in a thong that matched her bra. He had the idea that she would enjoy the sight too, and briefly left the room, returning with two college-style door mirrors, perhaps four feet high by eighteen inches wide. He stood them on the furniture so that between the two of them she could see herself from the side and from behind, and then watched in amusement as she stared at herself in the mirrors with a look of yearning.

"OK, why don't you sit down and cross your legs." She sank onto the rug, feeling the cheeks of her ass brush against the soft fur. Taking more rope, the man bound her crossed ankles much as he had her wrists, and then started wrapping the rope around her legs. She quickly lost track of exactly what he had done, but essentially found that a network of cinches now connected thighs to calves and calves to opposite feet. When she tried to struggle she found that she couldn't bend her legs inward at all, nor could she flatten her legs farther toward the floor. They were totally immobile, but she didn't realize how vulnerable this could make her feel until he pushed her body backward so she was lying on her bound arms. With her body almost horizontal, her pussy would now have been obscenely framed by her spread thighs, if she hadn't still been wearing panties. The man didn't give her long to consider this, though, as he took hold of her body and flipped it over sideways until she was face-down on the rug. Her breasts were squashed beneath her and her nipples rubbed enticingly as she squirmed, testing the limits of her bonds.

This was much stricter than Scott had ever tied her, even though her arms and legs weren't connected to each other. Her only remaining source of leverage was her taut abs and her slender back. She wondered if this was the end of the tie, thinking that if he were to start doing things to her, she wouldn't really be able to resist at all. She wriggled around pleasurably, feeling sweat start to form as the man left the room, walked down the hall, and then returned.

It had been a while since he had spoken at all, and she jumped a little when he said, "I hope you're enjoying this so far, because things are about to get a whole lot worse for you. I don't know that it will help either of us to let you complain." With that, she felt something suddenly pressing against her lips. This was the moment she'd been waiting for! She'd never been gagged before, but the thought of it had always turned her on more than almost anything else. She opened her mouth and her lips stretched around a firm, rubbery ball. It was large enough for her to feel a faint strain on her jaw, but not so big that it hurt. The ball displaced her tongue, and when she tried to say Can you move the mirrors to the floor, it came out as a jumbled mess. But the man was used to the muffled requests (and groans, and cries) of strictly-gagged captives, and he momentarily left the ball in her mouth with its straps hanging down, as he picked up the mirrors and leaned them sideways on the floor against the couch and chair. Lauren strained to hold her head up and turn it toward the mirror lying next to her, and saw that the ball was red and was connected to soft leather straps on either side, which the man proceeded to pull behind her head and buckle together tightly enough that they dug slightly into the corners of her mouth. She pushed against the ball with her tongue, but it didn't budge.

"Now we're getting somewhere" he said under his breath. She moaned unintelligibly in response. Another rope was quickly tied to her ankles and pulled through a loop in the knot near the top of her back. The man slowly continued to pull, causing her crossed legs to lift into the air and her chest to be pulled off the floor, until he finally seemed satisfied and tied the rope tight. Her back was arched in a classic bow shape and her abs struggled to maintain the punishing position. There was now essentially no movement available to her at all, except that she could adjust the position of her wrists a bit behind her back. As she explored the extent of her subjugation, the man took a laptop from the shifted coffee table and placed it on the floor about two feet in front of her face. It showed one of the pictures that she had sent him as examples. Looking back and forth between the picture and the mirror, she marveled at how she really did look like she was in a Hogtied shoot! The model's legs were closed though, whereas hers were bound creatively apart. She blushed to think that her position was even more obscenely exposed and humiliating than the one shown on the site. Except that she had her panties on, of course.

"What's missing?" asked the man, also shifting his gaze back and forth between her and the picture. Silence. By now drool was running down her chin. He leaned over and smacked her ass hard with his hand, saying "You really should answer me when I ask you a question." She moaned something that sounded like "riffle crams". "Hmm, looks like you're right," he responded. She saw him take two wooden clothespins from his pocket, and she bit down on the rubber ball as he placed one on her left nipple. By now, her tender buds were rock hard from friction with the rug, and the clamp was held about half a centimeter apart as it stuck out at an angle, with its tail end resting against the floor. He did the same to her right nipple, and she again felt the sharp bite, even as the left was settling into a warm ache. She flexed her abs and felt her breasts move a fraction of an inch against the rug, sending a jolt of pain through both crushed tits.

God it hurt, but Lauren was in heaven. There was no way that Scott could possibly have tied her with this level of skill. Every shiver sent a ripple through her breasts, and her back and abs throbbed with the tight position. She stared at her glistening, trussed body in the mirrors, which gave her a good view from the side but unfortunately couldn't show her back and ass from the top. She was completely absorbed in her predicament  - all other thoughts had disappeared from her mind. She didn't even realize that the man had been gone when he came back into the room, carrying something small. Craning her neck to the side she could see the toy in her peripheral vision. But he put it behind the couch, instead focusing on another rope in his hands, which he attached to her wrists and then wrapped snugly around her waist, knotting it in place. The rope pulled her wrists gently downward, totally securing them at last and preventing all movement. The ends fell over her right hip and coiled on the floor. He reached behind the couch and grabbed his toy, then gently pulled the thong of her panties aside and pushed it against her puckered asshole.

Lauren had let her previous boyfriend have anal sex with her once, though she'd never told Scott. Even with lube it had hurt a lot, and not in a good way - and she didn't want Scott to compare their level of sexual experimentation and feel insecure. Since then she had basically stayed away from anal play, and now, feeling the toy, she moaned "ung, ung, ung" into her ball gag. The man, to her surprise, actually removed the toy and said, "Well, you're new to this, so let's start slow." She felt a cold liquid drip onto her asshole which she assumed was lubricant, followed quickly by a finger, which didn't penetrate her, but rather rubbed the outside of her rosebud in a circular motion. She had to admit to herself that it felt good... really good... and she tried to relax and enjoy the sensations. The man kept rubbing for about a minute and then started to slowly massage her asshole, starting in the center and pressing outward toward the rim, while working his way in a circle. She couldn't believe how good it felt, and how much she was starting to wish for, almost to need, something inside her to clench her anus around.

Soon she got her wish, as the man once again picked up his surprise and pressed it against her winking asshole. "You're really not supposed to use lube for this, but I think it should still work just fine," he said. "We didn't use very much, anyway." With that, he pushed it inside her. It seemed to be a thin butt plug, narrow at the tip and two thirds of an inch at the center, before tapering down to a small diameter that her ass clamped around hungrily. It felt kind of rough, though. About thirty seconds in, she started to feel a slight warming sensation spread through her ass, particularly around her anal ring. The warming increased, and she started to buck her hips (as much as was possible in her restraints) and bear down with her ass to push the invader out. But working quickly, the man picked up the ends of the rope secured around her waist and fed them down between her spread legs, tugging them firmly so that they lodged between the lips of her sopping pussy, and then looped the ropes around her waist cord at the front and doubled them back through her crotch. This time he ran them on the outside of her lips, trapping her labia tightly in the middle. She was glad that she still wore the thin panties that were now the only thing protecting her from the rope. The man twisted the two ropes into oppositely oriented loops, right where they passed on either side of her plugged asshole, and then let the loops tighten around whatever was burning her ass. Just to be sure, he also ripped a piece of duct tape free from a roll and wrapped it around the loops of rope and the portion of the toy that protruded from her anus. Now, when she tried to expel it, she was met with a resistance that made her attempts seem totally futile.

"Ginger," he said. "The British used it to make show horses hold their tails high in the air. The intensity will increase for about five minutes and then drop off eventually, though I've scored the root to let more of the juices seep out... so maybe it will last a bit longer. You'll find that clenching your ass makes it a whole lot worse. Normally, I would cane those luscious cheeks of yours to make you clench, but I've promised not to leave any marks. So we're going to motivate you another way."

The warmth in her ass was fairly mild but increasing and, just as he had told her, clenching her ass had the remarkable and immediate effect of ratcheting up the sensation to blow-torch levels until she relaxed it again. Not wanting to waste any time, the man took from the cabinet the final piece of his plan for the girl. "I thought we'd celebrate your initiation into bondage," he said cheerily. It was a red balloon, fully inflated, that rose toward the ceiling when he let go. It hovered about five feet off the ground, tethered by a thin tube that ran from its mouth and connected on the other end to an unusual-looking squeeze bulb, which he held in his hand. Once again, he picked up the lube from the coffee table. Except for the balloon, she couldn't see much of what was happening from her position on the ground, but her eyes opened wide when he came over to her and held the bulb right in front of her face, squeezing lubricant onto it generously. She had no idea what was going on, but it was clear that the bulb was going to get put somewhere, and she didn't know if she could take any more additions to her predicament. As she protested through the gag, he pulled hard at her panties, slipping them out from where they were trapped by the crotch ropes, and then inserted the bulb deep inside her wet, waiting pussy.

It was too much for her. The stimulation to her nipples, the increased blood flow to her genitals caused by the ginger, the gag, the stretch of her taut body, the ropes rubbing against her clit - and now the feeling of something finally penetrating her long-waiting pussy - made her drenched body shake with a tremendous orgasm. As she did so, her pussy clamped down on the squeeze bulb and, without her even noticing, the balloon got just a little bit bigger.

The man messed with his laptop, starting a bondage movie that filled the screen and running another program that didn't seem to do anything. "Now listen up," he said. "You seem to be enjoying yourself. So here's what happens next. That balloon floating in the air has a piece of paper taped to the top that's marked with a big C or E or S. The balloon is stretched pretty thin already, so it shouldn't take too much more air to make it pop. I think you know how to make that happen. Once it pops and falls, you should be able to see what's written on the paper. It'll tell you whether to hit caps lock, or enter, or space. They're on different sides of the keyboard, so you should be able to do it with that ball in your mouth. When you hit the correct key it will let me know that you're ready to be set free. You could try it by chance, if you want, but you'll only have a one-in-three shot. And if you get it wrong," he added wickedly, "well, you'll be here until you hit any key you want over there." And he pointed to a laptop sitting open on the ground at the far side of the room, which, she noticed, had its webcam light blinking. "Try not to drool all over my computer, it might stop working," he said, and he left the room.

She considered her situation with rising horror. The second laptop was probably fifteen feet away, and there was absolutely no chance that she'd be able to wriggle that far across the floor in the strictest hogtie she could imagine, with clamps still affixed to her nipples and both her holes, well, occupied. She knew what she had to do, and she squeezed her PC muscles as hard as she could. The instant she did so, fire burned in her tortured ass. Oh my god! She had somehow forgotten that the muscles of her pelvic floor were all closely interconnected. Moaning now, she did it again. And again. She kept doing it, trying not to focus on her fiery asshole. After about twenty squeezes her pace slowed noticeably as her muscles started to tire. She kept squeezing, feeling the fatigue build, until finally she could do no more. She lay in defeat, suffering but also aware of another orgasm building inside her. She couldn't believe that the bound, gagged, tormented, and aroused girl staring back at her in the mirror was really her. After a short break, she started again.

The pattern of squeezes and breaks continued, but she managed fewer squeezes each time before becoming tired. Thankfully the pain in her ass had started to fade, although it still burned her. Midway through her seventh or eighth set of Kegels she came again, this time swearing loudly into the gag. A few squeezes more and she finally heard a POP and the balloon fell, landing on the small of her back. She rocked to the right and felt it slide off her back and onto the floor, and then groaned as her left breast fell back downward and crushed the pin that still cruelly gripped it. It came off, making her scream with the pain of returning blood. Straining her neck around she could just see out of her peripheral vision a large E on the piece of paper.

Using every muscle at her disposal she now somehow managed to shimmy her way forward, a tenth of an inch at a time, her throbbing tits rubbing on the floor with every motion, and the one clamp still tenaciously hanging onto her right nipple. It was impossible to move without clenching her ass constantly, but, overwhelmed by the tension on her straining body, she wasn't even aware of the burn anymore. Eventually she reached the laptop and mashed down on the enter key with her ball gag, then collapsed with her head on the keyboard, relieved at being able to rest her neck after straining to keep it arched upwards.

Less than a minute later, the man appeared beside her. He disconnected the rope between her arms and legs, instantly releasing the tension on her shaking body, and then unfastened the remaining clothespin. She was almost too tired to care about the pain shooting through her nipple. Other ropes soon fell away, her pussy and ass were freed from their intruders, and eventually, with hands freed, she reached back and unbuckled the gag still wedged between her teeth. Laying her head on the soft rug, she smiled to herself and fell asleep.

*  *  *

When she woke up, she found herself covered in a thick blanket, and her clothes were folded neatly on the couch. She noticed that her panties, so recently pressed by ropes into her soaking pussy, had been washed. She put on her clothes and left the room, only to find the man walking down the hallway toward her. "Feel OK?" he asked. "Yeah," she said in barely more than a whisper. "Wanna talk about it?" he asked. She thought for a moment, then felt like too much had happened and she needed to time to process it all. "Thank you so much for everything," she said to him, "but I think I'll just head home." He nodded as he took a few paces forward and opened the door.